Forgetfulness of the Heart
by BlackCat393
Summary: When Elisa finds a gargoyle in her station's basement, the Clan takes it back to the clock tower. Once the spell it's under is broken, they find it has amnesia. Brooklyn takes it under his wing, but can he help it recover its past and discover its future?


**Forgetfulness of the Heart**

Elisa Maza walked quietly down the stairs to the basement of her police station. One of her colleagues had gone down earlier and said that he thought he had seen a monster. Elisa knew one species that was frequently referred to as being monsters, so she took it upon herself to investigate. It was broad daylight right now though, so even if it was a gargoyle, it wouldn't be able to hurt her.

She shined her flashlight around the rooms slowly and eventually found the "monster" in one of the corners. She had been right; it was a gargoyle. But the interesting thing was its position. The gargoyle had tried to roll itself into a ball. It looked as if it was trying to protect itself from something. She couldn't quite tell whether it was male or female because its hands covered most of its face and its wings were so absurdly large for its body that they practically engulfed it. She put her hands on her hips and made a mental note to bring the Manhattan Clan down at sunset.

That evening, Elisa was waiting for the Clan in the clock tower. As they all filed in through the six on the clock face, she explained about what the other officer had found in the basement. Goliath listened intently and suggested that they get going before the Hunters found out or the gargoyle fought its way out of the basement. However, when they got there, the gargoyle was still stone. Angela was the first to speak.

"What's wrong with it? Do you suppose it's dead? The sun's already gone down," she pointed out. Goliath's face hardened.

"This is strange indeed," he said. "Broadway, carry it back with us." The large blue gargoyle looked up at him before bending to gather the creature into his arms. Then they glided back to the clock tower. When they arrived, Hudson and Bronx sat with the gargoyle by the TV while the others tried to decide what they were going to do.

"Do you think Xanatos knows about it?" asked Lexington. Goliath was silent for a moment.

"I hope not. Just in case, I think we should keep this new gargoyle a secret," he said.

"But what if Xanatos can help it?" Elisa protested. The leader's gaze drifted over to the human.

"We will tell him when he is this gargoyle's last hope," he said firmly. Elisa nodded. Lexington had wandered over to the gargoyle, where he was currently intently inspecting it. His eyes widened in delight.

"Hey, guys! I found something!" he exclaimed. Everyone but Goliath and Eliza hurried over. The two remaining made their way slowly.

"What'd you find?" Brooklyn asked excitedly. Lexington pointed to one of the gargoyle's hands.

"It's holding a piece of paper. If we can get it out, we might be able to learn something about it," he explained. "Can I take it out, Goliath?" Goliath nodded and Lexington began to wedge his fingers into the gargoyle's stone ones and slowly pry out the piece of paper. A small piece ripped off at the end, but he couldn't get it out.

"Well?" Hudson asked impatiently. Lexington smoothed out the paper on the ground.

"It's a riddle. But I couldn't get the last few words out," he said as he passed it to Elisa.

"_Sunlight prone,_

_Beast of stone._

_Remain a rock,_

_Abandon your flock._

_Keep this form,_

_Until the midnight storm,_

_In the month of June,_

_Under the-_

Under the what?" she asked after she finished reading it out loud. The gargoyles all thought for a while.

"Under the moon? It rhymes," suggested Angela. Everyone else seemed quite confident that it fit.

"June's next month. We should prepare ourselves," Hudson said. Goliath nodded.

"Someone will stay here with the gargoyle at all times during the night," he said. It was almost sunrise, so the gargoyles filed back out. Elisa followed and stayed with them until they reverted back to their stone forms. Then she said goodbye to the mysterious gargoyle before leaving.

All of the gargoyles were edgy the next month. The storm wasn't coming, and they were beginning to think that they were going to have to wait until next year. But then it finally came on the last day. And to their luck, the moon was out.

Brooklyn jumped when he heard the thunder. He looked at the clock, and when he saw the time, he quickly jumped up and took the gargoyle outside. Then he stepped back and watched it as it was relentlessly pelted with rain. But then a bolt of lightning came down right on it. He ran forward, watching the electricity crackle over its body even after the bolt was gone.

And then, just as theirs did every night, the gargoyle's stone skin began to crack. But instead of stretching and breaking the stone off by force, the gargoyle didn't move. Brooklyn, afraid that it might be dead, tried to pull one of its large wings back. The stone cracked and fell off under his touch, revealing green skin. He pulled the wing back farther to expose the gargoyle completely. More stone fell off.

The gargoyle was female. She looked terribly frightened of whatever had made her this way. Brooklyn continued to break off more of her stone skin since she appeared to not be able to do it herself. After he freed her arms, they fell limp on the concrete of the clock tower's balcony. He kept going, finding her other limbs just as lifeless. When he had finally pulled all of the stone from her body, wings, hair, and face, he picked her up and carried her back inside and put her in Hudson's chair. Eliza had accidentally left her coat, so he draped that over her while he waited for the others to return.

The gargoyle had green skin and black hair. She had bangs and her hair came a few inches below her shoulders. Her dress was plain, very much like Angela's would be without her belt. She had opened her eyes for a split second when he brought her in; they were a very light blue. She was quite average looking with the exception of her wings, which seemed much too large for her body. He gently put one of his talons on her neck to check her pulse. It was there, so he didn't worry about that anymore. A few minutes later, the Clan was back, Elisa held tightly in Goliath's arms. He came down to greet them.

"What happened?" Lexington asked as he raced over to Brooklyn. The rest of them also looked at him expectantly. He smirked.

"See for yourselves," he said as he led them up to the TV room. Angela bent next to the gargoyle.

"She's beautiful. Did she wake up?" she asked. Brooklyn shook his head.

"What happened when the storm came?" Hudson asked. Brooklyn took a deep breath. Elisa rolled her eyes.

"Well, when I heard the thunder, I carried her out to the balcony. Then I stood back and watched. It was kind of scary really, when the lightning hit her. I though it had killed her because she didn't move. I had to peel all of the stone off of her. Then I brought her in and you guys showed up," he explained.

"Is she alive?" Broadway asked nervously. Brooklyn nodded.

"I checked after I brought her in," he said.

When it was almost sunrise, the Clan went back outside. They opted against taking the extra gargoyle out with them, figuring it would be safer for her inside. But when the Clan changed to their stone forms and Elisa went to say goodbye to the extra, she found her still in her flesh and blood form. Elisa walked over slowly. The gargoyle appeared to be sleeping, as she should be, but she showed no signs of changing.

Elisa picked up the gargoyle; a great feat considering she was as big as Elisa and her wings were the size of Broadway's. So, Elisa carried her out to the balcony, hoping that if the sun hit her skin, she would change. She didn't. Then, worried that she might wake up in the middle of the day, Elisa carried her out to her car and managed to fold her enormous wings around her before fitting her into the back seat.

The gargoyle woke an hour before sunset the next day. She was so groggy that she let Elisa lead her to the car to make the drive over to the clock tower. When they arrived, she passed out again and Elisa was forced to carry her up the stairs. By the time she got all the way up, the Clan was already awake.

"Whoa! What's she doing down there?" Broadway asked. The expression on his face was clearly confused. Angela walked over to help Elisa support the gargoyle.

"She didn't change at sunrise. I took her back to my apartment because I didn't want her to be alone if she woke up," Elisa explained.

"Did she?" Lexington asked eagerly. She nodded.

"But only for a little while. She was so disoriented that she let me take her down the stairs and drive her over here. Then she passed out again at the bottom of the stairs. That's why I'm late," she said. Angela picked up the gargoyle, taking all of her weight off of Elisa.

"Why are her wings so large?" she asked to no one in particular. This was good, because no one answered. Angela carried her back up the stairs to the TV room and placed her in the chair. Bronx sat down by the chair and whimpered. Angela patted his head and went back out to talk with the others. A few minutes later, they heard footsteps. When they turned around, the gargoyle was leaning heavily on the door frame. She lifted a shaky arm and pointed at them. After a moment, they realized she was pointing at Brooklyn.

"You. Thank you," she managed. Then she collapsed.

That night, Elisa again took her home when she didn't change. And again, she slept through the day, only this time she didn't wake up that night until Elisa was pulling her out of the car at the base of the clock tower. Her eyes shot open and she resisted Elisa's pulling. Elisa let go.

"Can you walk?" she asked. The gargoyle smiled, seeming to have her energy back.

"Better. I can fly," she said as she stood and extended her wings to their full lengths. She gathered up Elisa and began to flap her wings up and down in much the same way a bird would. It took only a minute for her great wings to lift them up to the top of the tower. Because of the gargoyle's assistance, they were early. The sun was slipping, but it wasn't there yet. When the gargoyle saw that the sun was still up, she began to panic. She grabbed Elisa roughly by the shoulders.

"Why aren't I like them? Why aren't I asleep?" she asked. Elisa shook her head.

"I don't know," she said. At that moment, the sun disappeared below the horizon. The Clan stretched, breaking free of their stone skins. As they hopped down from the ledge, they were all surprised to see the gargoyle standing with Elisa.

"She's awake?" Broadway asked. Elisa smiled.

"Doesn't she look awake?" she asked. He nodded. The gargoyle took a step forward.

"Where am I? Why do you turn to stone and I do not?" she asked. Goliath stepped forward as well.

"We were hoping that you could tell us that." He extended his hand. "I am Goliath, and this is Manhattan." She hesitated, but took his it.

"I don't remember my name," she said. He paused.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't remember my name," she repeated. "In fact, I don't remember almost anything. Just having a spell cast on me and then him." She pointed to Brooklyn again. His eyes got a little bigger and he looked around for support. Seeing none, he smiled sheepishly. She returned it.

"We should go inside to talk," Goliath suggested. The gargoyle nodded and they all walked into the clock tower.

About an hour later, they had all learned that the gargoyle was from around the same time they were trapped in stone as well. She had a spell put on her to stay in her stone form just as they had, but the spell on her was more complicated. She thought she remembered a battle, but it was fuzzy and she wasn't sure. She did, however, remember the spell being cast on her; but nothing else.

After a few more minutes, they realized that Lexington had gone missing. They found him back out on the balcony. He was bent over something on the floor. It was the remaining part of the spell that he hadn't been able to pull out of her hand.

"Uh, guys? I think I may have found our problem," he said. He held the shred of paper out to Goliath. There were two words on it; "full moon". The leader growled under his breath.

"The night of the storm was only a half moon," Lexington explained. The gargoyle snatched the paper from Goliath.

"Are you saying I can't remember anything because you read the spell wrong?" she asked furiously. Lexington took a step back and Goliath stepped in between them.

"We failed to get the last piece from your hand. Your grip on it was too tight and we did not want to risk breaking your fingers," he explained calmly.

"Hey! If it weren't for us, you'd still be made of stone!" Broadway exclaimed. Angela put her hand in front of him.

"Cool down, Broadway," she warned. The gargoyle stared at him, tears building up in her eyes. She collapsed to the floor with her face in her hands.

"I can't even remember my name! My own _name_!" she wailed. Brooklyn put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her tears slowly stopping.

"You're right. Thank you for trying. I know it isn't your fault," she said as she calmed down. Goliath nodded, accepting her apology.

"Will ya be stayin' wit' us?" Hudson asked. He shot a look at Goliath, who simply stared back. The gargoyle stood slowly. Brooklyn's hand still rested on her shoulder, but she made no move to remove it.

"I would be honored after all of the trouble I have put you through," she said. As they all went back inside, Elisa stopped Goliath.

"Should we ask her what she wants her name to be?" she asked. He nodded.

"It would be fair," he said. When they walked back in, they asked her. She was quiet for a while. Angela suggested another New York landmark, just like all of the boys. The gargoyle nodded.

"But I don't know anything about New York. I don't even know what it is," she said worriedly.

"Would you let us name you?" Elisa asked. The gargoyle's gaze shifted to her.

"I would," she said. The group fell silent in thought.

"Delancey," said Brooklyn. Everyone turned to him.

"What?" the gargoyle asked.

"Delancey, after the street. That's what your name should be," he repeated. She smiled thoughtfully.

"I suppose then that my name is Delancey," she said happily. Brooklyn smiled too, pleased that she had accepted his suggestion. Bronx pushed his head against her leg. She bent to pet him.

"He likes you," Hudson observed. Delancey looked up at him.

"I guess he does," she said.

At sunrise, the Clan walked back out and took their places. Delancey and Elisa stood back and waited for the sun. Elisa and Goliath exchanged knowing looks. Delancey's ice blue eyes remained firmly locked on Brooklyn. He turned for a moment and their eyes met, but then he looked back out at the city just as the sun came over the horizon.

Elisa and Delancey stood there for a while longer until the sun cleared the horizon, both waiting for Delancey to change. But as before, she didn't. She turned to Elisa, a mixture of worry and fear in her eyes.

"Why don't I change?" she asked quietly. Elisa shook her head.

"I don't know. Come on, I'll take you back to my apartment," she said as she took the gargoyle's hand and gently pulled her towards the stairs. Delancey didn't budge.

"Can't we fly?" she asked. Elisa paused.

"Sure," she said. As Delancey gathered Elisa into her arms, she took one last glance at the stone gargoyles before launching herself off of the balcony. Her great wings opened and they glided down to Elisa's car. They made a few loops over it before Delancey finally touched down. When she folded her wings, they were like a cloak in the way that they almost completely covered her entire body.

It took a while, but Elisa finally convinced Delancey to get in her car. The gargoyle was wary of her red Ford at first, especially when it turned on, but she got used to it eventually. When they arrived at Elisa's apartment, Delancey crashed on the couch. Elisa gave her a pillow and a blanket, and although she didn't understand at first, she took them and quickly fell asleep. Elisa smiled; she should have been sleeping anyway.

Elisa came home periodically to check on Delancey, but every time, she was still sound asleep. She was always quiet and in the same position. At nightfall, Elisa shook Delancey awake. Her blue eyes were cloudy with sleep, but she quickly shook her head clear.

"Can we fly? Instead of…driving?" she asked. Elisa had only just taught her the words "car" and "drive" that morning, so the words were still new and uncomfortable in her mouth. Elisa hesitated, but gave in.

As they flew, Elisa noticed that Delancey actually _flew_. Her enormous green wings beat up and down in powerful strokes that continually forced them forward. She also noticed that flying was more efficient than gliding; they reached the clock tower in record time. The sun hadn't even touched the horizon yet. So the two women stood, stared, and waited.

"It's strange, to feel the sun on my skin," Delancey said quietly. When Elisa turned to look at her, her eyes were closed and a small smile had crept over her face as the sun bathed her in its last moments of warmth. But as it slipped below the horizon, her eyes opened to see the Clan once more break from their stone skin and leap down from the ledges.

Goliath acknowledged Delancey's presence with a simple glance in her direction before walking over to Elisa. Elisa knew Goliath, so a look was acceptable, but to someone like Delancey, it was somewhat rude. And if she would have known that scolding him would have done any good, she would have. But she didn't say anything, silently apologizing to Delancey, who looked mildly offended.

"Don't mind him." Delancey turned to find a smiling Angela behind her.

"You're…Angela. Right?" she asked nervously. This was the only other female gargoyle, so she desperately hoped she wouldn't get it wrong. Angela nodded and Delancey let out the breath she was holding.

"Goliath just isn't very personable," Angela continued. Then she took Delancey's hand and led her inside. Delancey realized that she not only had to match names and faces, but personalities as well. But in the next hour, she could at least tell who was who after Angela's motherly guidance and encouragement.

"Brooklyn?" Delancey asked as she sat down. The red gargoyle beside her turned his head, his eyes slightly larger than she thought they should be.

"Yeah?" he asked. She smiled; she had said the correct name.

"I wanted to thank you, for freeing me," she said. He nodded.

"It wasn't just me though. We all took turns watching you. Elisa's the one that found you in the first place," he said. He spoke quickly because he was nervous; she barely caught what he was talking about. She put her hand over his.

"You don't need to be nervous around me. I'm perfectly harmless. And even if I'm not, I can't remember," she said, unknowingly reminding him of the Clan's mistake. He smiled uncomfortably. Hers disappeared.

"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. He was surprised at her concern.

"Nothing," he said. She frowned.

"It didn't seem like nothing." But she let the subject drop. "You gave me my name, too."

"Not really. It isn't really even your real name." She tightened her grip on his hand.

"Still. None of us know my real name, not even me." He figured there was no point in arguing with her anymore. She patted his hand and stood up.

"I'm going to go talk to, um…Hudson?" she asked. He nodded; amused by her uncertainty.

"Don't worry, he doesn't bite," he said. From the look on her face, she didn't know what that meant. He rephrased. "He won't hurt you." She nodded and walked off, folding her huge wings over her shoulders. He watched enviously as she and Hudson happily conversed.

Over the next few weeks, Brooklyn grew quite jealous. Delancey had formed bonds with almost all of the other gargoyles. She came to him simply for company when she didn't feel the need to be with the others or the others were too busy to fit her in. They talked for a while, but her relationship with him was much looser than everybody else.

Elisa's bond with her had formed early on, since Delancey went home with her every day when she didn't change to stone like everybody else. Angela's happened because she was the only other female gargoyle and could relate to her the best. Lexington had been thrilled when she showed interest in all of his gadgets. He wasted no time in starting to teach her what they all were. She in turn was thrilled to have something that she knew for real.

Hudson was her link to the past. She listened to all of his stories with intense interest, hoping that something would spark at least a few memories. She had forgotten much of the gargoyle etiquette, and even though she questioned much, she accepted Goliath's explanations; therefore forging a shaky friendship with him as well.

Broadway introduced her to the TV. Unfortunately, this was before her lessons with Lexington began. She thought there were tiny people in it and broke the screen in an attempt to get them out. Elisa then had to take it to the repair shop to get a new screen. After Delancey realized what she had done, she was quite embarrassed.

"What's wrong, Brooklyn?" Brooklyn looked up to see Delancey's worried blue eyes staring down at him.

"Nothing," he said stubbornly. She frowned.

"You're lying to me and we both know it," she said. He looked way from her, not answering. She sighed and sat down next to him, taking his hand in hers as she often did. He gently pulled on his hand, but her grip remained firm. His hand finally went limp as he gave up.

"I don't know. I guess I feel like you don't need me as much as everyone else," he said, surprising himself with his own honesty. She looked shocked.

"What? Brooklyn, how could you think that? Of course I need you. You're my rock," she said. He looked at her again.

"Really?" he asked, hoping that she wasn't just trying to make him feel better. She nodded.

"I come to you when I fear the loss of my sanity. And simply because you're so cute," she giggled as she patted the side of his face. He smiled even though he knew she was just teasing him. She leaned against his arm and put her head on his shoulder. If his face hadn't already been red, it sure would have been then. She pulled his arm around her shoulders, but then her body stiffened.

When Brooklyn looked down to see what was wrong, he saw that Delancey's eyes had completely turned black. He gently pushed her off of him. Her stiff body immediately loosened and she fell limp, sliding off the bench and into a heap on the floor. He quickly knelt beside her and lifted her head into his lap. She shook once, closed her eyes, and took a shuddering breath. When she opened her eyes, they were blue again.

"Delancey? Can you hear me?" he asked. Her eyes slowly focused on him.

"Brooklyn? What happened?" Then her eyes widened. "I remember something!" she exclaimed. He looked down at her in interest.

"It was your arm around me that triggered it. There was another gargoyle with me, but I couldn't see him clearly. He had his arm around me and was telling me something, but I couldn't understand," she said, her voice getting softer towards the end. He continued to stare at her. "I suppose it wasn't really a memory if I can't tell what was happening," she said disappointedly.

"Sure it was," he assured her. She stared up at him gratefully.

"I told you you were my rock," she said. He smiled. She looked unhappily towards the balcony door. He followed her gaze and saw the other gargoyles walking out. The sky was pink in anticipation of sunrise. He looked back down at her.

"What does the sun feel like?" he asked. Her eyes darted back and forth over his face.

"It's warm and comforting. And it's beautiful," she said, unable to offer a better explanation. He took it anyway. Her eyes drifted back to the door.

"You should get outside," she said softly. He hesitated, but figured she was right and stood up. She followed him out. Most of the gargoyles had already taken their places. Elisa and Goliath were talking, still trying to fit as much time together as they could. Delancey walked with Brooklyn over to his spot.

"See you tonight," she whispered. He nodded just before the sun came up. Again, Elisa and Delancey waited to see if she would change, but the same as always, she remained the same.

"Elisa?" Delancey asked.

"Yes?" she responded.

"Can I stay here today?"

"Sure. But could you fly me home first?"

"Yes."

When Delancey got back to the clock tower, it was odd seeing it empty. She spent time sitting with each gargoyle, saving Brooklyn for last. When she reached him, she sat in front of him between his legs. Eventually, her eyelids grew heavy and she fell asleep with her head lying on his knee.

Delancey was jerked awake at sunset as Brooklyn broke the stone layer from his body. She was so surprised that she fell off and began to plummet downward. When she realized what happened she opened her wings as used them like a parachute. She floated gently down to a nearby building. A strong, cold gust of wind hit her several feet above the roof. Her wings instinctively closed to keep herself warm. She fell harshly against the stairwell and let out a yelp of pain.

She lay against the wall and inspected the damage. She had bloodied one leg and the other she immediately knew was broken. With the bone protruding at a strange angle under her skin, it wasn't hard to figure out. A few seconds later, Brooklyn landed safely beside her.

"You followed me?" she asked. He nodded and looked seriously at her leg. He scooped her up into his arms, careful to avoid her broken leg. Then he glided back up to the tower. She curled into his chest; biting her lip to keep from hissing in pain. He murmured something comforting in her ear, but she couldn't understand. She relaxed slightly, though.

When they reached the tower, Brooklyn set Delancey gently down in Hudson's chair. The other gargoyles ran in.

"What happened?" Goliath asked.

"She broke her leg," Brooklyn explained. Goliath saw the bone and grimaced.

"We will see if Elisa knows a trustworthy doctor when she comes," he said. Delancey squeezed Brooklyn's hand as she let out a long hiss of pain. He sat by the chair and made it clear that he had no intentions of moving. Bronx came over and gently wiggled under her foot like a footstool. If she hadn't been in so much pain, she probably would have laughed.

Elisa arrived a few minutes later, but left again to find someone to treat Delancey. After searching for a while, she found a young trustworthy doctor who thought gargoyles were the best thing since penicillin. He quickly gathered his things and went to Elisa's car. He also told her that Delancey was probably going to have to come to his office for x-rays, but Elisa said it wouldn't be a problem.

All of the gargoyles were wary of the doctor. They could never tell who was with the Quarrymen. Brooklyn watched him with cold eyes as he looked at Delancey's leg. He was going to have to pop it back into place and then bring her back to his office for a cast and some x-rays.

"Ready?" he asked. He was going to pop her bone back. She nodded and tightened her grip on Brooklyn and Hudson's hands. Hudson had experience with this and knew it would hurt, so he had offered his hand as well. The doctor grabbed her leg, jerked it to the side, and then pushed it up. Delancey screamed. Brooklyn stood to comfort her. Bronx whimpered on the other side of the chair.

"Are you okay?" Brooklyn asked. Delancey looked up at him angrily, but her expression softened.

"I think," she said. Brooklyn helped her stand up so that she could fold her wings around herself. Then he scooped her up bridal style. He looked expectantly at the doctor.

"Well?" he asked, his voice slightly irritated. He didn't trust him. The doctor paused, and then gestured for Brooklyn to follow him as he headed for the stairs. The two gargoyles followed him down to Elisa's car. Elisa had come with them, and after helping Delancey and Brooklyn get into the back seat, she climbed in the driver seat, the doctor in the passenger's.

When the doctor x-rayed Delancey's leg, he found that not only had she dislocated her knee cap, she had torn several of the tendons in her lower leg. He was going to have to do surgery on it soon. Brooklyn anxiously looked at the clock. It was 2 AM.

"How long will it take?" he asked. The doctor returned his gaze to the x-rays.

"Well…." He began to count things on his fingers. "It should take about two hours." Elisa nodded in Brooklyn's direction.

"Even if it takes longer, I can stay with her," she said. He didn't respond. Then he turned back to the doctor.

"Do it. Now," he said. The doctor nodded and began to collect his tools.

Barely five minutes later, Delancey was being wheeled into surgery. Brooklyn and Elisa walked on either side of her and she was holding on tightly to both of their hands. Both knew she was scared, and she was. She had seen the doctor's tools and was uncomfortable with them being inside her while she was unconscious. Elisa assured her that it would be alright, but it barely relaxed her.

As promised, Delancey was wheeled out two hours later at 4:30. She was still unconscious. Elisa and Brooklyn both sat by her side until she woke. When she did, there was only an hour until sunrise. Elisa sat with them for a while and then went to get a prescription for her. Delancey's blue eyes were clouded over with the sedative and she blinked a lot as she stared at Brooklyn.

"How are you feeling?" he asked quietly.

"Fine, I guess. I envy you," she whispered back.

"Why?"

"Because you can turn to stone and heal and I can't." He laughed.

"Are you going to stay with Elisa or come back with us?"

"What do you think?" He was quiet for a moment.

"You should stay with Elisa. She'll be able to protect you." She frowned.

"Who says you won't?"

"Elisa doesn't turn to stone during the day. Or did you forget already?" Now it was her turn to be quiet.

"I'll stay with her, but you have to promise to come and see me." He smiled.

"I promise." She squeezed his hand as her eyes darted to the window. The horizon was tinged with pink.

"You should to go now," she said. He turned to the window and when he turned back, she could clearly see that he was worried about her. She smiled softly.

"I'll be alright. You have to go. The sun is almost up."

"Fine, but be careful." Then he left.

That night, Elisa didn't come to the clock tower. Angela was the first to volunteer to go and visit Delancey, and not surprisingly, Brooklyn was second. Soon after waking up, the whole Clan was gliding down to Elisa's skylight. Elisa was still at work. Hudson gently tapped on the glass. Delancey opened her eyes, grabbed her crutches, and hobbled over to the skylight.

When she let them in, they all sat and talked until Elisa came home. When she did, Goliath, Hudson, and Broadway went out to patrol the city. Angela, Lexington, and Brooklyn opted to stay home. Elisa had to go back to work, so at least Delancey wouldn't be alone.

Lexington was content to poke around the apartment and look for any new gadgets Elisa may have brought home with her. Brooklyn and Bronx sat on either side of Delancey on the couch. Angela wandered around the apartment; making Elisa's bed, putting things on her shopping list, and feeding her cat, Cagney.

After Delancey's pain pill wore off a bit, she begged Brooklyn to take her outside. Angela protested openly, but Brooklyn scooped Delancey up and carried her out to the roof regardless. Lexington and Bronx followed close behind.

The four of them sat contently on the roof ledge; feeling the cool evening breeze on their faces. To Delancey, it felt like she hadn't been outside in ages even though it had barely been a day. She rested her head against Brooklyn's shoulder. The pain in her leg had kept her up most of the day; she was exhausted. He watched her, slightly afraid that she would remember something else and possibly fall off the building again.

Near dawn, Angela came up to tell them. They had noticed the tinge of pink on the horizon, but somehow really didn't. Brooklyn insisted on carrying Delancey back to the apartment, but she refused. She knew that Elisa would come up and find her. He hesitated, but she ushered him off. She bade them all goodbye and they left. It was odd for her to watch them disappear into the distance.

Elisa came to get her about an hour later. She didn't know that they had gone out to the roof, so she was quite surprised and worried when she got back and Delancey wasn't still sitting on the couch. She frantically searched for the missing gargoyle. When she finally found her on the roof, she wasn't pleased. However, when Delancey explained that she had hurried the Clan back and there was no time to take her back down, some of the anger dissipated.

Elisa made sure that Delancey had another pill before she went to sleep. And as always, the gargoyle slept all through the day. Unfortunately, Elisa had to wake her frequently so that she could take another pill. By the time night fell, she actually hadn't gotten much rest. This time when the clan came, only Brooklyn and Angela stayed while Elisa went back to work. They both sat with Delancey on the couch and insisted that she sleep. Eventually she gave in, too exhausted to do otherwise. To Brooklyn's disappointment, she propped her leg on his lap and put her head in Angela's.

But then her eyes turned black, and her body stiffened. Brooklyn gently held her to his lap, ordering Angela to do the same. She obeyed, and they waited. Delancey's face had contorted into a grimace, but it soon relaxed to be emotionless. Finally, her eyes closed. When she opened them, they were light blue again. She stared up at Angela and Brooklyn, a confused expression now dominating her features.

"I remembered, I think it was a battle. Or perhaps a violent struggle between my Clanmates." Somewhere inside, it hurt Brooklyn to hear her call others Clanmates. "I think I might have tried to break it up. I hurt so badly. But then this other gargoyle came and sat with me. She kept calling me by my name, but I couldn't understand her. But, I heard her name; Ambrosine. She had a white spiral tattoo above her left eyebrow." She reached to push a hand through her bangs. Angela gasped and lifted the bangs from her forehead. Perched above her left eyebrow was a white spiral tattoo.

"Del, you've got one too," Brooklyn said. Delancey sat up too quickly and cringed as pain shot through her leg.

"Angela? Would you bring me a mirror, please?" she asked, still grimacing. While Angela was gone, Delancey worked on repositioning herself. She turned so that she was sitting by Brooklyn and could rest her head on his shoulder. When Angela returned, Delancey hesitated. Neither Brooklyn nor Angela said anything, but they both knew Delancey was scared.

Eventually, she conjured the courage to lift her ebony bangs and peer into the mirror at the white spiral above her eyebrow. She took in a sharp breath and shuddered. Both of her companions tensed. Finally, she sighed and let her hair fall. She leaned more heavily on Brooklyn. He didn't mind, but he worried. She seemed a bit more worn out than she should be. Angela noticed, too.

"You should try to sleep now," she said as she took the mirror from her. Brooklyn helped Delancey lower herself down from his shoulder to his lap as Angela hoisted her ankles onto her own knees. It took a long time, but Delancey finally fell asleep; comforted by their company.

As Delancey got better over the next few weeks, the three of them spent almost all of their nights together. On the nights when Delancey felt well enough to go out, Angela and Brooklyn helped her glide around. She refused to fly as she normally would; fearing that flapping her enormous wings would stress the muscles in the rest of her body, including the leg. It was healing well, but the appendage was still tender to things harsher than a mild touch.

After a little over two months, Delancey's cast finally came off. However, most of her leg was still confined to a customized hard boot. The standard boot was most definitely not going to fit her. Despite being nearly the size of a human woman, the shape of her leg was not even close. Gargoyle legs were slim, but still a bit larger and longer with sharper curves. Once Delancey had been fitted with her boot, she was delighted to be allowed to stay at the clock tower again.

After sleeping on Elisa's couch so often, the initial night of sleeping in Hudson's chair was eerie. The old gears made creaking noises during the day that frequently woke her, and she had trouble going back to sleep each time. By the time night finally arrived, she was glad to finally have company around her. She gave up the chair to Hudson, hobbling out to the terrace. Angela joined her and they both talked for a long while. It was nice for both of them, just to talk as girls or women. No pressure, no intimidation, just them speaking freely.

However, finding nothing else to do, the trio of Lexington, Brooklyn, and Broadway had decided to listen in on their conversation. Luckily, they only caught every few words. So while they leaned as desperately close as they dared, they still didn't understand much of what the girls were saying. However, just as they were ready to give up, they heard something crash to the floor of the balcony. As they quickly looked around the corner, they saw Delancey lying on the ground with Angela by her side.

Recognizing the blackness of Delancey's eyes, Brooklyn rushed to her side as well. Broadway and Lexington hurried over with him, unaware as to what was happening. Angela cradled her head in her lap and they all waited. After several minutes, Delancey's eyes fluttered, then reverted back to their usual blue. She peered up at Angela and smiled sadly.

"Not much this time. Only two of my rookery sisters. Philomena and Chartreuse. Philomena was my biological sister. I suppose that we were talking, but I could not understand what they were saying despite the fact that I was answering back. Although, I did notice that they had the same tattoo as Ambrosine and me," she said. Everyone was quiet for a while. Delancey's eyes brightened as she sat up.

"Do you suppose the tattoo could be some sort of a way to trace my clan?" she asked, trying not to let too much hope leak into her voice. The trio and Angela glanced at each other.

"It might be possible…," Lexington started. However, Delancey clearly heard the doubt in his voice. She looked away, slowly pulling herself up from the floor. She straightened her clothes.

"I understand. It might not be possible," she said. Angela stood with her and the two of them walked inside. Once they were inside, Delancey stopped and closed her eyes.

"Angela? Why can't I remember anything?" she asked. Angela opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out the first time.

"But you do remember things," she said. Delancey opened her eyes and stared at her companion.

"Nothing important though!" she wailed. "I still can't even remember my name. I know I should just get used to being 'Delancey', but I just want to know who I am. Who I used to be." Angela put an arm around the estranged gargoyle.

"I know. We all know. Just make sure you remember that we're here for you; no matter what," she said. Delancey let out a sob, but as she stood there in Angela's arms, she never cried. Since she had been awakened, she had only cried once; that initial night when she realized her memories were gone. But along with her memories, she had lost her ability to cry.

That morning, Delancey fought the urge to stay awake, she prayed to anyone who was listening, both in her head and out loud, that she would remember something significant. And until the sounds of the bustling city outside lulled her to sleep, she kept desperately hoping that she would. Somehow, all of her hoping helped.

As Delancey drifted deeper into sleep, her mind grew hazy. Glimpses of non-important information from her old life flashed through her mind. They were simple, insignificant memories of day to day things performed with an assortment of Clanmates whose names she could not remember. Her unconscious mind sorted through them all; filing some away for when she woke and delving deeper into others. Most remained normal everyday things, but one was more interesting than the rest.

Delancey was walking through some sort of garden, and she was obviously not in Manhattan anymore. Despite being asleep, she was very aware of her surroundings. She bent to pick a small white flower and cupped it gently in her hands. It was so incredibly delicate looking with tiny petals and a soft yellow center. As she walked farther, she noticed that she wasn't alone.

Sitting on a stone bench, was the male gargoyle from her first memory. Her heart sunk at the fact that she still could not remember his name. He had bluish skin and wings proportional to hers; larger than average. His hair was grey despite the fact that he was obviously young. Then she noticed the white spiral above his left eyebrow. Seeing the tattoo gave her the courage to approach him. He was in her memories and probably in her Clan, so maybe he at least knew her name.

"Um, excuse me," she said softly as she walked hesitantly closer. As his head snapped up, she noticed he was holding the same sort of flower she was, gently twirling it in his talons. When she stopped about three feet from him, he stood, shock and awe written all across his face. His yellow-orange eyes were wide with disbelief.

He reached out, brushing her arm, and dropped his flower. Then he quickly pulled her into his arms. He held her close and gently stroked her long black hair. She stiffened despite the fact that she felt very safe in his arms. Her flower dropped as well. Being so close to him, she could clearly hear his ragged breathing and the hitch in his voice when he spoke.

"How is this possible? You were turned to stone," he whispered. She allowed him to hold her a few moments longer before she gently pushed him away, although he refused to let go of her entirely.

"Who are you?" she asked tentatively. The shock on his face when he had first seen her was nothing compared to what it was now.

"What? It's me," he said. When she showed no reaction, he continued. "Chamois? Remember?" She looked down.

"I can't remember anything from…when you knew me. My memories of then come in spurts, but I can't really understand any of them. So I don't know who you are…Chamois. I'm sorry," she said quietly. He gave her another quick hug. Then, realizing that hugging someone she didn't remember might make her uncomfortable, he let go of her and took a step back.

"You can't…remember?" he repeated. She shook her head.

"So, who are you?" she asked. He began to fidget uncomfortably.

"Um, well," he started. This was going to be interesting. "I'm your mate." Her ice blue eyes widened, but she took the news much better than he had expected. She smiled softly, picking their flowers up from the ground.

"I thought there was something more than simple familiarity between us," she said, handing his back to him. He began to twirl it again.

"This was your favorite flower. The white jonquil. It's a variation of the daffodil, or narcissus, as you used to prefer calling it," he said, his full attention focused on the flower. Delancey's eyes fell to the flower in her own hand. Suddenly, there was a tugging, pulling her away from Chamois. She looked up from the flower to her former mate.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," she said. Then she dropped the narcissus and ran in the direction of the pull. She could hear Chamois calling after her, by her real name, but her legs wouldn't stop and her ears wouldn't listen. She just kept running.

When the Manhattan Clan awoke at sundown, Broadway was the first to notice Delancey's black eyes. Angela and Brooklyn sat on either side of Hudson's chair and waited for her to wake. But when she hadn't woken after ten minutes, they began to worry. Angela took hold of Delancey's shoulders and began to gently shake her. Brooklyn softly repeated her name in her ear. Delancey's eyes shot open and she quickly sat up, almost knocking heads with Angela.

"Chamois," she whispered. Angela and Brooklyn exchanged a confused glance.

"What's Chamois?" Angela asked. Delancey looked up at her.

"He's, he used to be, my mate," she said. Brooklyn cringed visibly. Luckily, neither of the girls noticed.

"Your mate?" Angela asked in disbelief. Delancey nodded.

"I had a dream about him. It was so real though; no where close to a dream. He was so confused and disappointed when I didn't remember him," she said softly. Angela helped her stand up and find her crutches. Then they resumed their places on the terrace and talked about her dream.

Brooklyn was left sitting beside Hudson's chair; alone. He was still pondering about Delancey's mate, Chamois. He wondered what he was like, in appearance and personality. He sat for a long while, just thinking, nothing more. Eventually, Delancey must have stopped talking with Angela, because before he knew it she was tapping on his shoulder.

"Brooklyn? Are you alright?" she asked worriedly, easing herself down to his eye level. He snapped from his daze to look back at her and smiled.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he said. She nodded, but he could tell that she didn't believe him. She sat down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Is it about Chamois?" she asked. He stared at her, hoping his face didn't give away too much. Unfortunately, it did. "That's what I thought," she said. She sat up straight and looked right at him. He wouldn't look at her, so she turned his face towards herself.

"Brooklyn, if you're worried that he might come between us, he won't. Chamois is long dead by now. And besides, it was only a dream." She spoke softly, her sweet voice slowly reassuring him.

"I know," he started, but found that nothing else would leave his mouth. She seemed to understand and simply put a finger to the tip of his beak and returned her head to his shoulder. He nervously placed his arm around her shoulders. She smiled and pushed herself closer.

That morning, when Delancey came in from the balcony, she paused before folding her wings and sitting down in Hudson's chair. She wondered if she would dream about Chamois again. She was frightened to, but she was desperate to know something important about her previous life. Eventually, she fell asleep, her mind still filled with troubled thoughts.

Delancey did dream of her former mate that night. Chamois had somehow brought more of their Clanmates with him, introducing them as Carmine and Philomena. Delancey recognized Philomena from a previous memory, remembering her as her biological sister. Philomena had yellow skin, black hair, and dark brown eyes. She had been caught in a fire, so her skin was sprinkled with burn scars. Carmine was completely white; an albino with reddish eyes. Carmine's skin was so white, that she was the only gargoyle in the Clan with a grey tattoo. Like Delancey and Chamois, their wings were larger than the average gargoyle's.

Philomena had a soft, beautiful voice while Carmine's was harder. Both women offered Delancey helpful insights to her void memory. Her Clan was the Clan of the White Spiral. She sarcastically retorted that her Clan had been very original when choosing the name. Her rookery sisters agreed readily.

Unfortunately, however helpful they were, Delancey had learned little by the time it was time to wake up. She had discovered that her Clan was one of nomadic gargoyles who practiced different kinds of magic. Delancey herself had apparently been quite gifted, but she couldn't remember any spells of any kind. And still, no one had mentioned her real name.

She ended up waking before sundown and was surprised to find Elisa. She had three grocery bags and was busy pulling tubs out. Delancey walked over to help her, but pulled back when she found the last tub was freezing cold.

"What's in here?" she asked. Elisa pulled the tub out for her.

"It's ice cream," she said. She proceeded to pull a meal utensil and some round but triangular wafers out as well. She explained that the ice cream was meant for eating, the wafers were called 'cones' and were used the hold the ice cream, and that the utensil was used to scoop the ice cream from the tubs. Delancey was wary of the items, but forgot them when she noticed that the sun had almost disappeared below the horizon.

She walked out to the terrace as best she could, her boot hindering her speed. The sun's last rays of warmth felt wonderful on her skin. As the Clan sprung from their skins and walked inside, Broadway was the first to notice the ice cream.

Elisa had already expertly scooped all of the gargoyles' favorite flavors and readily handed them over. Brooklyn and Broadway, strawberry; Goliath and Lexington, vanilla; Angela and Hudson, mint; and chocolate for herself and Delancey. Delancey had never had ice cream before, but she trusted Elisa. As she sat in her usual spot between Angela and Brooklyn, she took a tentative lick. He laughed at her shyness.

"Come on, Del, it's only ice cream," he teased. Angela reached around Delancey to push him.

"Brooklyn!" she scolded. Brooklyn's stuck out his strawberry covered tongue as best he could. Delancey ignored them and acquainted herself more with the cold dessert in her hand, effectively earning a large brown smudge of it on her nose. Angela offered her a napkin, but she declined it and attempted to lick it off. However, she failed hopelessly and had to use the napkin anyway.

Delancey continued to dream of Chamois and her other Clanmates. She learned that all of the members, save herself, her sister, and their mother, were named for the color of their eyes. Delancey's mother turned out to be the female who dressed her wounds in the previous memory, Ambrosine. The Clan of the White Spiral was more like a group of humans than gargoyles. Parents kept their eggs with them until they hatched and cared for the hatchling until it was old enough to go off on its own.

Ambrosine and Philomena explained that their father, Ambrosine's mate, had been killed in battle. Consequently, it was the same battle Delancey remembered returning from. His name was Cyan, and his eyes were obviously blue. Ambrosine had dark eyes like Philomena, so it was just as obvious where Delancey's had come from, even if they were a little lighter.

Somehow, all of her Clanmates knew to call her 'Delancey' instead of her real name. It frustrated her. On this particular occasion, she asked her mother straight out. Ambrosine smiled and pulled her daughter into her arms. She whispered gently into Delancey's ear. "You'll remember in your own time, my love. I promise." Confused, Delancey let her mother hold her until she woke up.

When she did, she begged the Manhattan Clan to do some research on her own Clan. They agreed and set off. Goliath, Broadway, and Hudson went of on patrol while Elisa and Lexington did the research. Angela and Brooklyn stayed in their respective spots with Delancey. Bronx whimpered as he lay down by their feet.

Somehow, Angela convinced Delancey to lie down. The gargoyle was distressed over her missing identity more than usual. She lay with her head in Angela's lap and held Brooklyn's hand. He sat on the floor facing them and silently willed Lexington and Elisa to go faster. He hated seeing her like this and he could tell Angela did too.

Eventually, Delancey could sit no longer and began to pace around the room. Her walking boot had been taken off the week before, so it was much easier to pace without it. Angela and Brooklyn remained where they were and watched her knowing that there was nothing they could do until Elisa and Lexington got back. Angela got up and was going to walk over and see if she could try to reach Elisa on her cell phone, but Delancey stopped her when she had only walked a few feet.

"Let me try something," she said. And with that, Delancey raised an arm in the direction of the cordless phone and uttered a single word, "_Accedo_." Both of the remaining gargoyles stared in wonderment as the phone lifted itself out of the docking station and floated across the room to Delancey's outstretched hand. For a moment, all three of them were shocked speechless. Delancey turned to them.

"Did I just…?" She was unable to finish her sentence. Brooklyn smiled and hurried over to her.

"Do you think you could show me how to do that?" he asked.

After the incident with the phone, Delancey was oddly calm. Angela had held off on calling Elisa, and Brooklyn sat quietly as well. Delancey had gone out on the balcony, and for some reason he hadn't followed. She had noticed his absence as well, but hadn't come to retrieve him. Instead, she stayed alone and gazed into the stars. Then her eyes turned black and she fell to the floor.

"_You coming?" Delancey smiled up at Chamois._

"_Of course I am," she replied as he took her hand and helped her to her feet. Philomena waited impatiently at the door._

"_Hurry up, you guys!" she complained. Delancey smiled at her sister and led Chamois out. They all took running jumps off the cliff edge where the Clan was currently staying. Stretching their enormous wings wide, they opted to glide to their destination rather than fly. Half way there, Delancey turned back to her mate, who was gliding along lazily behind her._

"_Hurry up, slow poke!" she called. Philomena giggled as she glided past him to be by her sister._

"_Yeah, Chamois! Usually you beat us!" she exclaimed, obviously happy to be in the lead. He rolled his eyes as the girls caught a faster air current. They sailed on ahead of him. A few minutes later, they softly touched down in an empty field. It had been used for farming once, but had been long since abandoned._

_By the time Chamois floated down next to them, they were already laying in the waving grass and pointing out constellations to each other. Occasionally they would find a group of stars that looked like something to them and make up a silly story about it. Other times, they would simply alter an already existing tale for their own amusement. He lay down beside them and listened to their laughter._

_Their starry getaway was abruptly shattered as the sounds of catapults rang out through the air. They quickly sat up and scanned the area for the source. Philomena screamed as she saw the flaming balls that had been launched begin to fall in the field. Chamois grabbed Delancey's hand and jerked her upward. He took off running, pulling her along with him. When Delancey looked back to see how close Philomena was, she found that her sister had disappeared into the blaze._

"_Chamois! We have to go back! Philomena's still in there!" she yelled. He didn't stop. She did, digging her talons firmly into the ground. Braced, she yanked her hand from his. He turned back to her._

"_What are you doing? We have to get out of here!" he exclaimed. She kissed his cheek._

"_Get help! I have to go back for Philomena!" she said desperately over the sounds of crackling grass. She could see the turmoil in his eyes. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to say good-bye, she did it for him by taking off in the direction they had come from. She glanced back long enough to see him fly into the distance._

_The smoke was burning her lungs and the heat was scalding her skin. But she kept running and shouting her sister's name. There was never an answer. When she reached the place where they had been lying, it was empty. She frantically looked around. Finding nothing, she began to run again. Philomena had gone in the direction opposite them and Delancey found her unconscious a few meters away. She gently lifted her petite sister into her arms, maneuvering around her wings. Then she took off, leaving the blaze on the ground below her._

_Chamois had faithfully gathered a team to investigate the attack while Delancey helped tend to her sister's burns. They were severe from lying in the middle of the inferno for so long. It didn't seem like she was going to make it. Eventually, they were forced from Philomena's side to allow her to rest. Delancey sought out her mother._

_Ambrosine had sat silently and watched her eldest daughter and the Clan's healers tend to the burns of her youngest. She shuddered at the thought of losing her daughter. Her mate had already been killed and she couldn't bear to have another taken from her. However, she stayed quiet as Delancey came to sit beside her._

"_I'm frightened, Mother," she whispered. Ambrosine took her hand._

"_I know, love. I know," she murmured back. Just then, one of the healers called._

"_Come, Ambrosine," he said. Delancey's mother nodded, releasing her hand and walking to her other daughter. She sank to her knees and reached out a hesitant hand._

"_Oh, my baby," she said softly. Delancey could hear the grief in her voice, and couldn't help but assume the worst. She stood and began to run to her family's side._

"Del? Del, come on. Wake up!" Delancey eyes shot open and she sat up so quickly that she slammed her forehead into Brooklyn's. He stumbled backward. If it weren't for the overwhelming concern for her sister that still surged through her veins, she might have worried about him.

"Philomena," she whispered, unable to break herself from the reality of the memory. Brooklyn took a break from rubbing his head to stare at her in confusion.

"Philomena? Isn't that your sister?" he asked. She turned on him, eyes flashing in anger. He scooted backward a bit, holding his hands up in surrender. "Hey! What'd I do?" he exclaimed. Her eyes flashed again, this time with an emotion he couldn't identify. She hauled herself up from the floor and took a running leap off the balcony. Brooklyn watched her fly away as Angela raced out to stand beside him.

"What happened?" she asked. Brooklyn shook his head, still trying to figure it out for himself.

"I don't know. She did that black out thing and when she woke up she was all angry! I don't know what she remembered, but it obviously wasn't good," he said, desperately trying to explain. Angela pulled him to his feet.

"Well we can't just stand here," she exclaimed. He nodded and they took off after their friend.

Delancey beat her wings as hard and fast as she could, desperately trying to reach the place where she knew she would find her Clan. The Clan of the White Spiral was long since extinct, but she at least remembered where they left their dead. She knew that was where she would find her answers.

Gliding on air currents was much slower than actual flying, so Angela and Brooklyn where well behind Delancey. They were silent, each trying to decide where they thought she was going. Brooklyn had toyed with the idea that she had gotten all of her memories back, but she probably wouldn't have flown off if she had. Angela simply hoped that she hadn't been traumatized or sent in shock by anything.

Delancey flew past Manhattan and out over the sea. There was a small island about twelve or so miles off the coast. It was shrouded in mist, and Delancey stopped to stare at it. This island was where her Clan brought their members to rest in undisturbed peace. Delancey remembered the mist from when she had come to leave an elder. The precipitation was as foreboding as she recalled. Then she took a deep breath and dove into the fog.

Somehow, Brooklyn and Angela had managed to catch a faster air current. They glided swiftly along, following the direction they had seen Delancey take off in. When they hit ocean, they were surprised not to have found her yet. After a while, they began to notice a haze drifting around them. In an instant it was too thick to find their way out. They grabbed each other's hand for the sake of not getting separated.

Delancey touched down, feeling the soft sand under her feet. The mist cleared for the most part once you were actually on the island. She began to walk, letting her feet think for themselves. It was just as eerily quiet as it had been the last time she had been here. She forced herself to keep walking.

Angela and Brooklyn had found the island. They stood on the beach, letting their eyes adjust. The unnatural silence was disturbing. Angela's grip on Brooklyn's hand tightened in search of comfort. He squeezed back. Taking deep breaths, they began to walk into the ominous space ahead.

Delancey's feet took her where she wanted to go. At first she thought they had led her to a dead end, but as she stared at the ivy covered rock in front of her, she had the sudden urge to push the plants aside. As she did, she saw the opening in the rock and the stairwell leading a spiral down into the earth. She smiled a bit; her ancestors had definitely gone for the complete spiral motif. She walked over to the first step, letting the ivy swish closed behind her.

Brooklyn and Angela eventually found the spots where Delancey's footsteps had crushed small plants into the ground. They followed the steps, letting them twist and turn through the forest. They trod carefully, and unbeknownst to them, Delancey was at the foot of the stairs by the time they reached the entrance. By the time they figured how to open it, her feet were already leading her through the maze of hallways.

"Delancey!" Brooklyn called down the stairs. "Delancey, are you down there?" The stairwell was silent except for the echo of his voice. Angela shook her head.

"She won't answer, Brooklyn. Even if she's down there, she probably can't hear us," she murmured. He slammed his fist into the wall. How could she do this to them? He took off down the stairs. Angela followed with less enthusiasm.

Delancey had heard them. She stopped and stared in the direction that she had come. She thought about answering, just to tell them that she was alright, but her mouth wouldn't allow anything to pass her lips. The stairs were silent after that, so she continued through the labyrinth of passageways. When she reached the end, she gasped in wonder.

The Manhattan members had reached the beginning of the maze. Brooklyn grumbled in disgust. He had always hated mazes. Angela was thrilled with the idea of a challenge. She pulled Brooklyn in and led him around the channels. She got them lost several times before they reached the middle.

Delancey looked around the room in amazement, but felt a sudden sense of urgency. She abandoned her astonishment and rushed around the room. The chamber was enormous. It was circular and had slits carved in the walls. A giant spiral had been impressed in the ceiling. Inside the slits, were the stone corpses of her Clan. Engraved above each slit was the name of the deceased. In between the columns of bodies there were handholds.

Delancey spotted her father's name near the middle of a column and climbed up the handholds. As she stared at his perfectly preserved body, her memories of him came flashing back; sitting on his shoulders, flying beside him into battle, bringing him to be buried. A tear ran down her face. At the unfamiliar sensation, she let go and unceremoniously dropped to the floor.

Angela and Brooklyn heard her feet hit the ground. Brooklyn called out to her, but again received no answer. Angela silenced him as they made their way through the final part of the maze. Delancey found her mother and her sister. From the looks of their remains, they had both lived long lives. Delancey sobbed in relief. Philomena had made it. She smiled as she found her sister's mate and son. She stared lovingly at her nephew. For an old gargoyle, he was very handsome.

She peered at his name, wondering if Philomena had kept with her mother's tradition or the Clan's. She grinned through her tears. Philomena had chosen both. Her nephew's name was Oliver. Her sister's mate's name was Forrest, and his son had inherited his green eyes. "Olive" had always been Philomena's favorite kind of green. But, keeping with their mother's tradition, she had changed it into a human name.

As Delancey looked up at her mother's grave, she saw that there was an empty slit above her. She grabbed the handholds and climbed up to read the name. Sunetra. Her eyes turned black and she fell from the wall. It wasn't just any name, it was her name.

Brooklyn raced forward to catch Delancey. That was still her name as far as he knew. Angela ran with him. They barely made it. As Brooklyn cradled her in his arms, he wondered what had triggered this memory. Little did he know, it was all of them; the first until the last.

Having your life flash before your eyes took on a whole new meaning for Delancey. She now knew her real name, but couldn't bring herself to acknowledge the fact. The images flashed relentlessly through her mind. She begged them to stop, but they only came with more force. She tried to scream, but her throat closed up. Her muscles stiffened; she was as good as paralyzed. Helpless, she panicked as the last memory hit her hard.

"_Sun!" Delancey looked up at the sound of her name. She was sitting beside her sleeping sister with their mother. Chamois was running towards her. She stood and faced him._

"_What is it?" she asked. Chamois looked at Ambrosine, signaling that this concerned her as well._

"_The humans!" he exclaimed, out of breath from flying. "They're bringing an army to attack!" Ambrosine's eyes widened as she stood. She took her eldest by the shoulders._

"_Protect your sister, Sunetra," she commanded. Delancey nodded. Her mother's eyes softened as she bent to hug her. "Never forget that I love you." Delancey worriedly pushed her away._

"_Mother," she started. Ambrosine shook her head._

"_Take Philomena and go. Stay safe," she said softly. Her eyes hardened again as she took to the air. Delancey turned to her mate then in the direction of her sister. Just as she bent to scoop her up, Chamois pulled her into his arms._

"_I love you," he said. She smiled._

"_I know. I love you, too," she replied. He smiled too._

"_I know," he repeated. He reluctantly let her go. She kissed him reassuringly._

"_I'll kill you if you die," she said. He smirked._

"_So I'm twice as dead?" he asked playfully. She nodded. "Okay. You're the only one who can kill me twice."_

"_But then you'd be three-times dead."_

"_You know what I mean."_

"_I have to go."_

"_I know. I just wish it could just stay like this."_

"_Me too." She brushed a talon down his cheek. "Bye." Then she broke from him, gently collected her sister, and lifted off._

"_Bye!" she heard him call. She fought the urge to look back. Closing her eyes for a moment, she knew that if she did, she would never be able to leave. She beat her wings faster._

_Delancey sought refuge in a remote cave near the top of a mountain. The opening was small, just big enough for one at a time. There were two rooms, one when you squeezed through the opening and another hidden at the back. Delancey situated Philomena in the hidden room and gathered wood for a fire. When she lit the pile in the hidden room, she gathered a small pile for the initial room. When it was lit, she sat beside it and waited for someone to come tell her that it as safe to come out._

_After almost an hour of nothing, Delancey heard footsteps. They weren't gargoyles. A group of five humans had trekked up the side of the mountain. She immediately went on the defensive. There was no way they were getting to Philomena. For a moment, the humans and the gargoyle stared each other down. A growl formed in Delancey's throat. All of the humans stepped back but one. It walked closer._

"_What do you want?" she snarled at him. He smirked._

"_Isn't it obvious? I want you dead of course," he said. His tone was as self-confident as his expression. He disgusted her._

"_Then why haven't you killed me yet?" she asked mockingly. He frowned._

"_You question my abilities?" he exclaimed. She shrugged._

"_Why not? Although, I haven't seen anything worth saying anything about; questioning or otherwise," she said smugly, pleased to have upset him._

"_Filthy beast! I'll kill you for this!" he screamed._

"_Isn't that what you came for?" she asked. His rage suddenly dissolved into amusement. She began to feel uneasy._

"_You're right. Thank you for reminding me," he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of powder. She watched him curiously until he thrust his hand out and it coated her skin._

"_Your pixie dust doesn't scare me," she said, even though what he might do with it did. He smiled that horrible smile again._

"_It should." Then he began to chant in a language she had never heard. The dust seared her skin. She screamed and sunk to the ground. She put her hands over her eyes and tried to curl into a ball, hoping to protect herself in a futile situation. Her huge wings folded around her. She began to loose consciousness. The pain drifted away. Instead, it felt like the end of the night when they returned to their stone sleep. In horror, she realized that was what he was doing. He was turning her to stone, most likely forever. He was killing her. In her last moments of perception, she prayed that Philomena would make it out alive._

Brooklyn watched the tears stream from Delancey's terrified black eyes. He was frightened too, for her sake. Angela had begun to climb the handholds up to the place they saw her fall. She peered into the slits at Delancey's family.

"Brooklyn, this is her family! This cave is just a huge burial site for her Clan," she exclaimed. Brooklyn shuddered. He had been watching too many scary movies with Broadway. Angela climbed higher. "Here's her sister, and her mother, and her father, and-" She stopped. Brooklyn looked up at her.

"What? What'd you find?" he asked anxiously. Angela was staring at the empty grave, the grave that had been meant for Delancey. The shock of realization hit her hard.

"It's hers," she whispered. Brooklyn cocked his head.

"What?" he asked in disbelief. Angela shook her head, trying to clear it.

"It's Delancey's grave. This one was meant for her," she murmured. Brooklyn fought the urge to leave Delancey and look for himself. Angela leaned closer to the hole and tried to distinguish the name above it. "The name says…Sunetra. That must be her real name." As Brooklyn looked at the gargoyle in his lap, he realized that even if she stayed with the Manhattan Clan, she would always be Delancey to him. And when he looked up at Angela, he knew it was the same for her. The lavender gargoyle climbed down from the wall just as Delancey's eyes reverted back to blue. She stared up at Brooklyn.

"Brooklyn?" she asked feebly.

"Yeah?" he asked. She curled into him and cried for the first time since the spell had been broken. Angela put a hand on her shoulder and sat beside them. Neither asked of her memory. In a way, neither wanted to know.

Later, Delancey explained that she had her memory back and they prepared to head back to the clock tower. Delancey climbed the handholds and gently kissed the stony cheeks of her family; even Forrest, who she had never known. Just as they began to walk into the maze and Brooklyn thought they were finally free of the burial chamber, Delancey seemed to remember something.

"Wait!" she exclaimed. "We didn't find Chamois." Angela could see the disappointment in Brooklyn's eyes. She knew that he liked Delancey more than he would a normal friend. She smiled as she remembered when he, Lexington, and Broadway had fought over the right to have her as a mate. She had always known that it was just a competition to them. But this time, Brooklyn seemed to have genuinely fallen for Delancey.

They watched Delancey scurry up and down the handholds in search of her former mate. Brooklyn knew where he was. Chamois was in the second slit from the floor on the right side of the maze entrance. Chamois was right behind him. Angela knew too, but she didn't say anything. She simply wondered whether Brooklyn could let go of his jealousy and tell Delancey.

"He's not here. Why isn't he here?" Delancey asked in a distressed voice as she walked back over to them. Angela watched the turmoil rage in Brooklyn's eyes. He looked at Delancey and saw the worry that she had for Chamois. He knew that she would always love him, even if she never showed it.

"He's right here," he said finally. Angela smiled. Delancey quickly walked over and he forced himself to step aside. She knelt beside his body, gently touching his face. He too had lived out his life. Brooklyn looked away. Delancey searched the surrounding graves. She smiled softly. Chamois had never taken another mate.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," she told him. "I would have loved you anyway. As long as you were happy." She leaned into the grave and gently kissed his stone lips.

As they walked through the maze and up the stairs, Brooklyn thought about what Delancey had said. _I would have loved you anyway._ He shuddered again. He hated the thought of her being with him. He smiled a bit; he didn't think it was possible to hate someone you didn't even know so much. When they reached the beach, Angela put a comforting hand on his arm. Delancey's voice caught their attention.

"The sun's coming up." They looked out at the horizon. The mist was still present, but through it came a twinge of pink. She smiled at them. "Haven't you ever wanted to see the sun?" They nodded. "Watch." All six eyes turned to the horizon where the sun had just peeked over the edge. Through the haze, the effect wasn't spectacular, but Brooklyn and Angela still stared in amazement.

"We're not statues," Angela whispered. Delancey's smile widened.

"It's the fog. It protects this place," she explained. Her companions were still speechless. "That's why we put our dead here. There used to be guards on this island. Even if anyone got through the mist, the guards could protect our Clan day or night."

"Wow," was all Brooklyn could manage. They spent the rest of the day sleeping under the warmth of the sun.

Delancey dreamed. She was in the same garden she had been in the first time she met Chamois in her reveries. She plucked a narcissus from the ground and sat at the same bench he had. And she waited, wondering if he would come now that she remembered. She had been twirling the flower for a while before she felt large hands on her shoulders. Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see the blue skin. She smiled.

"You came." She heard Chamois laugh. She remembered how she had loved his laugh.

"Of course I did. Thanks for the kiss by the way." She laughed too as he sat beside her.

"It was the least I could do." She turned to look at him. "Why didn't you take another mate after me? It was obvious that you thought I wasn't coming back." His orange eyes clouded.

"There was no one I could have loved more than you." She frowned.

"You didn't have to love them more than me. You only had to love them in the first place."

"Okay then, there was no one I wanted to love other than you." She gave up trying to argue with him and laid her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and pulled her close to him. "I love you still," he said softly.

"I know. And I'll always love you back."

"I know." There was a pause. "Will you take another mate?" She broke from him.

"What?"

"Will you take another mate?" She shifted uncomfortably.

"Do you want me to?"

"Like you said, if it would make you happy."

"That's not fair." He smirked.

"Since when have I ever been fair?" She jabbed him in the ribs. "Hey!"

"Do you want me to?" His eyes softened as he stared at her.

"I could never imagine you in the arms of another, Sunny." She remembered her nickname. "But if there's someone who makes you happy, you should go for it. I _want_ you to go for it." She smiled.

"Oh, Chamois. That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," she said teasingly. She was surprised when he gripped her shoulders and his eyes grew stern.

"I'm serious. I don't want you to live the rest of your life the way I did. I was always depressed even though I had all my friends around me. I couldn't stand not having you with me. I think that if I had taken another mate, it might have been easier. I don't want that to happen to you, too." She felt a sudden pang of guilt. She hadn't cried at his grave like all the others. She was speechless. Eventually, she changed the subject.

"What are Forrest and Oliver like?" Chamois smiled and released her.

"You found them, huh? Forrest's okay, I mean, the guy's real serious, but he's a good match for her." Delancey knew who 'her' was. He meant Philomena. "Oliver's got a bunch of spunk. I swear, sometimes I thought that kid was gonna' sky rocket with all that energy and we'd never see him again." She laughed.

"Philomena kept Mom's tradition. And the Clan's."

"Yeah, she had a hard time with that. The kid got Forrest's eyes. You remember that little market we used to watch?" She nodded. They had spent many hours together spying on the villagers. "Well, your sister was sitting there one day and saw this new stand. 'Oliver's Fruits'. Personally, it should have been 'Oliver's Oranges'. That was pretty much all the guy sold. And his name wasn't even Oliver. It was Humphrey." She laughed again. They were quiet for a while.

"And Mom?" Chamois paused.

"She was shocked. You and Phil gave her the surprise of a lifetime when you got cursed and she pulled through. She was ready to say goodbye to one daughter and the other one left."

"You make me sound like a terrible person." He laughed this time.

"You? Never."

"I'll miss you."

"Don't. I'm not gone."

"But you're dead. And I'm supposed to move on with my life like you told me too."

"Yeah. But I'm still here if you need me. So are they."

"They?" Chamois gestured behind her. She turned. There stood the whole of her family; Ambrosine, Cyan, Philomena, Forrest, and Oliver. She stood, unable to comprehend dreaming within a dream. Her parents opened their arms and she readily fell into them. Chamois stood with her nephew.

"We're so proud of you," Ambrosine murmured. Delancey might have scoffed; there was nothing to be proud of. Her father said nothing, but he had never really had much to say. She moved to hug her sister, then Forrest. She pulled Oliver close and kissed his forehead. He tolerated it. Delancey turned as she felt her body waking up. The pull of consciousness was strong. She quickly kissed Chamois. He held her tight and returned it.

"Love you," he whispered. She nodded and began to run.

"Love you!" she called back to her family. They began to get hazy, waving as she left. As she turned away from them, they disappeared into wisps of smoke and were promptly blown away in an imaginary wind.

The cold of dusk woke the trio sleeping on the soft sand. The sun hadn't yet reached the horizon, so they stayed within the safe veil of fog. When all glimmers of color had disappeared, they all took off. There was no wind on the island, so Delancey had to lift both Angela and Brooklyn high enough to catch some sort of current. When they were finally on their way, Angela asked the question that had not dared to come out into the open.

"Are you going to be Delancey or Sunetra now?" she asked. Delancey was quiet. Even with all of her memories back, her own name was still foreign to her.

"I will be whichever I am called," she said finally. Brooklyn smiled; glad that she wasn't going to abandon the name he had given her. Angela was surprised that she was keeping both, but let the subject drop. The rest of the trip to the clock tower was silent.

The whole of the Manhattan Clan was waiting for them. Goliath wasn't happy that they had left without any notice. Elisa was simply worried about them. As they touched down on the balcony, an unintelligible jumble of words was launched at them. Brooklyn offered a hand to help Delancey down from the balcony, ignoring the others. She smiled and took it, gracefully hopping off the railing. Angela held her hands up in mock surrender.

"Quiet," Goliath commanded, a gentle forcefulness in his voice. The group on the terrace hushed themselves. "Let us go inside to talk," he finished. There were some nods of agreement as everyone filed inside. Delancey grabbed Brooklyn's hand for comfort. He smiled despite himself. Elisa grinned crookedly at Goliath, nodding her head in their direction. The leader noticed, but didn't say anything.

Inside, Angela, Brooklyn, and Delancey explained about all that had transpired while the rest were out. Elisa asked the same question that Angela had. When Delancey provided the same answer, she realized that the dual names might confuse. She bit her lip as she tried to choose. She smiled as she came to her conclusion.

"Delancey. A new life deserves a new name," she said. Brooklyn managed to keep his smile small.

Once the questions had finally dispersed, Delancey walked out onto the balcony. The stars were out and she felt a pang of sadness tug at her heart as she remembered her final night as Sunetra of the Clan of the White Spiral. She heard footsteps and immediately drifted back to that same night. But as she turned around, it was only Brooklyn. She pushed Sunetra's life away. She didn't exist anymore. In her place, Delancey of the Manhattan Clan confidently stood.

"Hi," she managed. He kept walking until he stood beside her.

"Hi," he echoed. She smiled. He grinned back. "Whatcha' doin'?" She hoisted herself onto the railing, letting her tail dangle over the edge.

"Just sitting here." He nodded. She patted the spot beside her. He pulled himself up. She stared up into the stars and he followed suit. He quickly looked down when he felt something slither around his tail. He was surprised to find that the slithering object was Delancey's tail. As he looked back at her, her eyes were still toward the sky.

"Del?" he asked. She turned to him, but didn't say anything. "What are you doing now?" Her eyes flashed between him and the floor and his tail was immediately released. Her tail had been warm; he shivered as the cold night air wrapped around the places it had been.

"I'm sorry," she said. He shook his head.

"It's okay," he said as he recaptured her tail in his own. Her eyes brightened and she smiled. He straightened nervously as she scooted over next to him and took his hand. Her gaze lingered on him, but returned to the starry skies.

"They're beautiful. Don't you think?" she murmured. He nodded, but expressed his answer out loud when he realized she didn't see the gesture.

"Yeah." As he watched her, the thought that she was beautiful too crossed his mind. He scolded himself.

"Chamois wants me to choose another mate," she said softly, jostling his thoughts.

"What?" She looked at him.

"I said,-"

"Yeah, I know. It was just a surprise, that's all."

"Oh." They paused.

"What do you want?" he asked. She considered his question.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want to choose another mate?" Part of him desperately hoped she would say yes. The other part hoped for a negative answer. That way there would be no chance of her choosing someone other than him.

"I don't know. What if the one I want doesn't want me?"

"I don't know who wouldn't."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I really mean it." She studied his expression for a moment. Apparently she didn't find what she was looking for. "Did you have someone in mind?" he asked. She smirked.

"Maybe. Why?" He was glad his face was already red.

"No reason." Some of the light left her eyes. He searched frantically for something to restore it.

"Do you want me to choose a new mate?" she asked. He was caught. If he said yes and she chose someone else, he would heartbroken. If he said no and she was thinking of him, he would wonder what she would have done for the rest of his life.

"I think you should do what you want." Anger flashed across her features and she groaned. He wanted to take his words back. She noticed his expression and apologized.

"It's not your fault. I'm just sick of hearing that when I don't even know what I want," she explained. Her tail tightened around his. He let his curiosity get the best of him.

"Who might you want?" She almost smiled. Then she opened her mouth, ready to spill out the name. But then she had a second thought and closed it. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"He won't want me. We're just friends," she said. It was his turn to be angry.

"Delancey, just tell me! If you're that worried, I'll go with you and take him out if he says no, but God, just say it!" he exclaimed. Lexington peered around the corner to see what the fuss was about. They both glared at him and he slipped back inside. Their eyes met and their frustration with each other seemed to crackle in the air.

"Fine. But when I ask him, are you willing to take yourself out?" she asked as she finally gave in. It took Brooklyn a moment to process what she had said.

"What are you saying?" he asked. Could she really be saying what he thought she was saying? What he hoped she was saying? Her tail lashed out of his. She fought the urge to slap him as she pushed herself off the railing. He followed, eager to know the answer.

"You are so thick sometimes, Brooklyn!" she shouted. A few more questioning faces looked out at them. Delancey marched over and pulled the door shut, effectively locking them out of the conversation. She turned back to her happily confused companion.

"What did I do?" he asked.

"You're just you!"

"What about me?"

"I don't know! I just…just…ugh!" She sank to her knees. He sat down beside her.

"You just what?" he asked softly. "Just give me a name and I'll leave you alone. I promise." She looked at him, her ice blue eyes searching his face.

"Don't leave me alone."

"Okay." Her eyes darted nervously, never staying on him for more than a second.

"You." For a moment, Brooklyn wasn't sure he had heard her right.

"Me?" he squeaked. She stood up and started to walk away.

"Just forget I ever said it, okay?" He reached out and grabbed her hand.

"No. I'm glad you said it," he paused. "Because I'd never've been able to say it myself." She stared at him, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Is that a yes?" she asked as he pulled her back down to him.

"It was meant to be." She smiled as she sank into his arms. They stayed that way for a while. Then they lay down on the stone of the balcony and she pointed out stars and constellations. They laughed at each other's silly stories just like she had in the past with her sister.

As dawn arrived, they refused to move. The rest of the clan took their positions while Delancey identified a last few fleeing stars. She quickly kissed the side of Brooklyn's face before pointing back to the sky just as the sun broke the horizon.

Elisa looked out onto the balcony to account for everyone like she usually did. As she scanned the figures on the ledge, she noticed one was missing. Then she noticed the two gargoyles on the floor. She walked out to look at them. Delancey and Brooklyn had been frozen in stone at exactly the perfect moment.

They lay side by side, her head resting on his chest and his arm draped around her shoulders. Brooklyn had a giddily surprised smile splayed across his face. She could only imagine what Delancey had done to him. As for the female gargoyle, she looked as if nothing had happened and had simply extended her arm out to point out something in the sky. Her mouth was open, waiting to tell him about whatever it was even though he obviously wouldn't have been listening.

She smiled and walked back in towards the stairs. And when she uttered the next few words, she didn't just mean Delancey's turning to stone.

"It's about time."


End file.
